THEIR DAY AT HOME
"What is wrong about the fire, sir?" questioned Grace pleasantly.
"Have you a permit to build fires in these woods?"
"We have not," spoke up Hippy. "Why?"
"Then put it out!"
"Just a moment, old top. Who sent you here?" demanded Hippy.
"The Dusenbery outfit that's cutting on Forty-three notified me by telephone yesterday that a party of campers had set on fire and burned off several thousand feet of timber. He said there were two men and a party of women—that they were rough-necks, and a lot of other things. I haven't anything to do with that, but I'm going to see to it that you don't do any more damage to the forest."
"Peg Tatem, eh?" reflected Hippy. "How did you find us? Did Peg tell you where we were?"
"I saw your smoke yesterday, but couldn't rightly place you till this morning when I smelled your smoke and found I was close to you. Are you going to douse the fire?"
"I think not, sir," answered Grace.
The ranger sprang from his horse and strode towards the campfire. Hippy stepped between him and the blaze.
"Don't do anything childish. Let the fire alone. When we want the fire out we will put it out ourselves," reminded Lieutenant Wingate.
The ranger drew back an arm as if about to strike at the Overland Rider when a menacing growl at his side caused the forest man to spring back. He had recognized that growl instantly. Henry, standing on his hind legs, "arms" extended, was ready for fight, following a gentle prodding and a "Sick 'im, Henry," from his mistress.
The ranger whipped out his revolver.
"Drop that gun!" yelled Joe Shafto. "That's my bear!"
"Don't shoot! He is a pet bear," admonished Lieutenant Wingate. "That is Henry. Oh, are you awake?" he added, as Hindenburg rolled over, blinked, and then dashed out and began barking at the stranger.
"What's this—a circus?" wondered the ranger.
"I give ye fair notice it'll be a circus if ye don't let that bear be," warned the forest woman in a shrill high-pitched voice.
"Put away your gun, Mister Man. There's nothing to shoot here, unless you get too confounded obstreperous," urged Hippy, now smiling. "My name's Wingate, Lieutenant Wingate, late of the Army Flying Corps in our late unpleasantness with the Hun. What's yours?"
"Chatworth's my name. I'm the warden up here, and, not having a permit to have a fire in the forest, you'll have to hit the lumber trail for the open country."
"Nothing doing! You will have to dope out something better than that to induce us to leave," grinned Hippy.
Grace demanded to know where the ranger got his authority for stating that they should have a fire permit.
"It's my authority!" he answered brusquely.
"Who told you to assume such authority?" interjected Miss Briggs in the calm judicial voice that was hers when trying a lawsuit.
"I'm not answering fool questions. You heard what I said. Are you going?"
"Well—yes, of course we are going, but it may be a month or two before we do go. If you will kindly give me your address I'll drop you a picture card later on, telling you when we expect to leave the Big North Woods," drawled Lieutenant Wingate.
"Hippy, I do not believe that Mr. Chatworth fully understands who and what we are," interjected Grace. "We take such trips as this one every summer, sir, and we are not greenhorns in the forest. We realize the danger of fire to the forests as fully as well as you do. For your information, I will merely say that we were in no wise to blame for the fire at Section Forty-three. A tree fell over and scattered the embers of our campfire, thus starting the forest fire and—"
"All the more reason why you're not fit to be in the woods," answered the ranger roughly.
"Cut the rough talk!" admonished Lieutenant Wingate severely. "Had it not been for us that blaze would have swept the whole state. We fought it all night and until nearly noon next day. Stop growling! If you keep on growling the bear and my bull pup will think you are an animal and sail into you for keeps."
"As I was about to say," reminded Grace, "my husband is a forester and is in the North Woods now on official business. He was with us when the fire occurred, and will join us further along in a few weeks."
"Eh? What's his name?" demanded the ranger sharply, eyeing Grace with new interest in his eyes.
"Tom Gray," answered Grace.
"Is he the fellow that's cruising the timber up here for the state?"
"Yes."
"Humph! Why didn't you say so before?"
"I presume because you did not ask me," returned Grace demurely. "Now that you understand, won't you please sit down and have breakfast with us? We have plenty and really shall be glad to have you."
"Well, I reckon I might as well," decided the ranger, striding over and tying his horse to a sapling.
Hippy introduced him to the members of the Overland party, the ranger bowing awkwardly, but with the quiet dignity so characteristic of those who have learned their lesson from the heart of nature herself.
"Sorry, folks, that I had to be up a tree with you, but we must do our duty and protect this forest. There are not many of 'em left in these United States, and what there is, are going fast. I'll have a snack with you."
"Peace has been declared," murmured Emma.
"Keep that menagerie away! I don't like bears nosing around me any more'n I do wolves."
"Wolves!" exclaimed Nora. "We heard one last night."
"There are lots of 'em up here and they kill the game. The state offers a bounty of seven dollars and a half for every one killed—every full-grown critter; ten dollars for cubs."
"You say the state desires to get rid of them?" questioned Emma.
"All states do. They're varmints," answered the ranger.
"Why don't they try dynamite?" asked Emma. "Perhaps the wolves might eat it and go off."
"Call the bear," suggested Hippy after a brief silence.
The Overland Riders shouted, and the forest ranger grinned, the bull pup joining in the merriment by barking and dashing about the camp, taking a gentle nip at Henry's flank as he passed that none too good-natured beast.
"I reckon this is a circus after all," choked the guide, trying to talk and eat a slice of tough bacon at the same time. "Tell me what happened about that fire. I reckon you haven't told the whole of it."
Hippy thereupon related what they had discovered after the fire, as well as the experiences they had gone through preceding the fire, to all of which the forest ranger lent an attentive ear.
"Hm-m-m!" he mused. "Reckon you haven't heard the last of that outfit. Tatem'll have it up his sleeve for you long as he lives. Keep your eyes peeled. That Dusenbery outfit is the biggest set of timber thieves in the North Woods and I hope we catch 'em. Do I understand that your husband is looking for 'timber-lookers' who are looking for easy money on the sly, Mrs. Gray?"
"He may be," smiled Grace diplomatically.
"Mebby I'll run across him. Thanks for the snack. Thanks to you, Miss Dean, for the wolf suggestion. I'll pass it on to the Game and Fish Commissioner at St. Paul. I'll be off now."
"How about this campfire, 'Chatty'? Do you still insist that we put it out?" questioned Hippy solemnly.
"Well," answered the ranger, stroking his chin reflectively, "being as its you and further, being that I've broken bacon with you and heard a real funny joke from Miss Dean here, I reckon I don't. 'Bye, folks. See you some other time." The ranger led out his horse, mounted and rode away.
"That obstacle overcome," announced Miss Briggs in a tone of relief, "I wonder what next."
"If you will kindly cast your eyes downstream I think you will discover three more obstacles on the way to the Overland camp, and, from the look of them, I am inclined to feel that they are not harbingers of delight. Girls, this really seems to be our 'Day at Home,'" said Grace Harlowe laughingly.
"Good night!" exclaimed Hippy Wingate after a quick glance downstream. "Give Henry a poke in the ribs, Joe. Here's more trouble!"